Shadow of the Impaler
by Red Star
Summary: The Pokemon world is not free of shadows, and two factions in the darkness draw Ash and his friends into their undying world, in a clash between two mighty powers for dominion! YOU WOULD BE FOOLS NOT TO READ & REVIEW!!!
1. Prologue

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-PROLOGUE

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-PROLOGUE

By Red Star

NOTE: I do not own Pokemon and I thank Dragoness for allowing me to mess with her story a bit.

In my mind, I do not owe any sort of explanation to the masses of Breathers that are legion on this world. My motivations I will keep between myself and my God. So the question of why I intervened in the matter concerning Ash Ketchum and that scheming tramp Anya Polosev shall go unanswered…for now, should I wish it. But now, let me tell you of the odd events that fell upon the Ketchum family…

Consider Pallet Town, a rather small burg that lies in a valley of the Indigo Region. In the 19th Century, a young artist stumbled upon this magnificent valley and was immediately enchanted by it. All the colors he saw matched those upon his paint pallet, and he gave it's name to his discovery. He moved his family in and soon, poets, artists, philosophers, writers, and other people of the creative sort descended upon this beautiful land, seeking rest and inspiration. Because of the area's isolation and the free spirits of those who called it home, the denizens of this town have developed a happy collective personality. They attach themselves personally to hobbies and sometimes become completely absorbed in it. An example would be the dear Delia Ketchum and her blue ribbon winning garden, or young Ash Ketchum and his champion team of Pokemon. They also gain an inherent sense of humor; although to make it an excellent joke takes practice for these people. As often occurs in small towns like this, everybody knows each other and they will ally themselves with their choice of hero, as evidenced by the greeting given to young Ash when he emerged from Professor Oak's laboratory.

Consider the Pallet Breakfast & Bed Inn, a charming establishment about three stories tall, and a full staff of maids and bellhops. This lovely Victorian inn had an unusual guest a few months after Ash Ketchum returned to his home…

"I have a reservation," said the somewhat shadowy man who stood before the clerk at the front desk. The clerk looked up with an automatic smile that he had to struggle to keep on as he made eye contact with the man before him. The stranger's eyes were deep blue, and had an unusual aura about him. The man's face was long and pale, rather handsome, and had a beaky nose. In his black-gloved right hand he held a long black walking stick with a golden carved snarling wolf's head on top and a gold tip. The man wore a long black coat and carried a briefcase in his left hand. Behind him was a black leather trunk. "Yes sir, your name?" The fellow looked down at the plastic waving Squirtle that sat on the clerk's desk. "Jonathan Graves." The clerk typed the name in and said, "Yes sir, we have it right here. Room 312. You're pretty lucky." The man's eyes glanced back up at the clerk. "And why is that?" "Your room has a great view!" Graves looked at him with a somewhat bored expression before giving a small, quick smile and turning to his trunk. "Oh, we'll get that sir!!" The clerk rang his bell and a bellhop appeared. "Brian, bring Mr. Graves' trunk to room 312, please."

The bellhop chattered away with the silent visitor who sometimes mumbled a word or two in reply but otherwise limited his part of the conversation to nods. The room was comfortable. A complimentary bowl of fruit sat at a table beside the window that looked out over a vast grassy area. Graves approached the glass and looked out at it. The bellhop was about to finish taking the trunk off of his hand truck when the visitor spoke.

"Tell me," said the man. Brian approached Graves from behind, waiting for the question.

The walking stick went up and pointed out at the magnificent landscape. "Who owns that land?" "Oh, that's Professor Oak's Pokemon Ranch. There's a trail that goes through it if you care to walk around it, sir." Graves was just silent as he regarded the land. "I see. Is he not the friend of Ash Ketchum?" "Yes sir. He's like the grandfather Ash never had. I'd say father but…" "But what?" "Mr. Ketchum showed up a few months ago. They bought a huge plot and set up a Pokemon Gym." Graves nodded. "Thank you, Brian," The guest drew a few dollars from his coat and handed them to the bellhop. Brian thanked him and was about to leave when…"And Brian?" The bellhop turned around. "Inform the manager that I wish to be left in peace. When a sign is on the doorknob, I expect it's rule to be enforced. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Graves."

Graves waited until the bellhop's footsteps had vanished down the hall to start removing his coat and gloves. As soon as the black gloves were off, he flexed his thin, pale hands as the fingernails grew longer and sharper. He sat in a chair facing the Oak ranch and placed his fingers together. He could see the movement of a fleet of Tauros on the pasture. "Your record is impressive, Little Ash," Graves muttered to himself, "But this is _my_ world you are walking into." He could see a large mansion at the end of the ranch. Only one light remained burning.

"God preserve us both, young friend," he whispered.


	2. Psychic Cats and Undeath

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-PSYCHIC CATS AND UNDEATH

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-PSYCHIC CATS AND UNDEATH

Ash's P.O.V.

"All right Ash, now concentrate. Let's see how much weight can be lifted."

Professor Oak stood by as I concentrated on the weights he had hurriedly bought a while ago. I felt the power reaching out, grasping the weights and lifting them. One heavy black bar went into the air. Then another. Then another.

I was panting by this time, trying desperately to move another bar up to join the others.

"Meeewww…." I groaned. Finally, I just let them come down to Earth. The professor walked over and checked them. 

"Fifty pounds," he announced. 

Spectacular, I answered and sat on his desk. Professor Oak walked over to the desk for the entry into the computer.

"How is your father adjusting?"

Fine, I looked over as he began typing away on his computer, He complains a little on how much Mom spends on stuff for the garden, but otherwise I think he's okay.

"Good, good," he muttered. Finished with his log, he clicked on his e-mail.

"Professor Ivy? What does she want?" Professor Oak clicked on the message. An image of a woman with purple hair and a white lab coat came onto the screen. "Good evening, Professor Oak. I am forwarding the credentials of a young man named Tracy Sketchit, a Pokemon Watcher who wants to meet you. Call me back if you're interested."

A letter came on after the connection was broken. "Impressive," said Oak. 

As he read the letter, his doorbell rang.

Should I…

He waved his hand dismissively, "No, Gary or May can get it. They're downstairs with Pikachu."

A few minutes later, Mayo walked in with Pikachu on her shoulder. 

The professor and I turned to her. 

"Gary says there's a man to see you, Grandpa,"

He looked at me as he said, "I'm a little busy, May, is it important?"

I could have sworn that the shadow of a clawed hand fell across her face as she said, "Yes, it is."

After changing into human, I followed the professor and Mayo downstairs with Pikachu on my shoulder.

"Pika, Pikapi Pikachu?"

_When was the last time we could do this?_

I smiled at him.

"Too long, I guess."

As we entered Professor Oak's living room, the stranger turned his head to see us.

I stopped at the door and just stared at this guy. There was something…_weird_…about him. There was nothing physically impressive, he was tall, thin, and shockingly pale. His hair was black, and his nose was beaky. But his eyes were something else, they were warm and threatening at the same time. _I won't hurt you, but one wrong move and your butt is mine to kick_ they seemed to be saying.

Gary stood casually by the fireplace, every now and then glancing a suspicious glance over at the new guy. 

"I'm Professor Samuel Oak, you wanted to see me?"

The stranger smiled and stood. He walked over and held out his hand. The Professor took the hand and shook it. He stood only at the man's neck. 

"A pleasure to meet you," the stranger spoke with a voice quietly marked by a foreign accent, "Permit me to introduce myself; I am Jonathan Graves." Smiling at the Professor as he released his hand, Graves turned to May. She held out her hand, "May Oak, Mr. Graves." Graves took her hand, turned it sideways, leaned over and kissed the air above it. "Your servant, my dear," She blushed and quietly took back her hand. Graves sat back down across from Professor Oak and calmly placed his long hands on his knees. 

"Professor Oak, I come to you in search of aid," he began, "My family is an old one…And a proud house. Members of my bloodline were at the frontlines as the Turk reached for empire in Hungary." He reached down beside the couch and picked up a black briefcase. "While going through my family's vaults, I discovered a rather unusual document…" Graves set the briefcase on the coffee table and began quietly turning the combination lock. "You must be patient with me now; this briefcase is of special manufacture. It contains a nasty little toxin that attacks the central nervous system and can paralyze a full grown man for days…" I think everybody in the room stepped back a little at that. Graves smiled grimly at us and opened his case. Inside were two scrolls, with wooden rollers. He took one out and opened it. Professor Oak leaned forward as Mr. Graves turned the scroll around for inspection. "My…" he said as he examined the slightly torn paper, "How old is this?" Graves leaned back and seemed to have begun admiring his fingernails. "Some experts under my payment have described it as over six hundred years old. The author is a mystery. However, I have been able to identify the writing as Gaelic." Professor Oak looked up at him with empty eyes. Mr. Graves smiled. "The ancient language of the Irish Islands; it has been a lingual corpse for some time now." Professor Oak shook his head. 

"I'm honored that you would bring this here for me to examine, but I don't think I can help you with anything about this." Graves chuckled as he reached into his briefcase.

"I believe you would be greatly interested by this, Professor; these scrolls were in the same container. I can only assume that they made the second one for the illiterate."

He pulled out the other scroll, turned it around and rolled it open. It was covered with pictures. We all came in close to look at it. It showed people, buildings, weird symbols and…

"A Mew!!" 

We all turned, shocked, to Mayo. She quickly pointed to a picture on the scroll, showing a familiar cat-like Pokemon.

"You are a student of the myths, young lady?" asked Graves.

May blushed again and drew back a little. Professor Oak was sputtering as he looked over the scroll.

"This…this is amazing, Mr. Graves! I'll have to have this translated; I think Dr. Eve is still in Indigo somewhere."

The visitor smiled and nodded. Then he stood and shut the briefcase.

"I have business elsewhere, Professor Oak; I leave them in your care."

"Very well, I'll put them in my safe."

"Excellent, Professor; until then," Mr. Graves bowed slightly and then left the room toward the door. Soon enough, we heard the door open and close.

The Professor stood up with the scrolls in his arms and turned to me.

"You can go, Ash; I have to find Dr. Eve."

"Alright, Professor, see you later."

I walked home that night, didn't feel like flying. Pikachu was unusually quiet. He stared ahead, with thoughts of his own. Suddenly, his electric-sacs began sizzling with power.

"What is it, Pikachu?"

"_He's out there!_"

"Who?"

Pikachu was quiet as he stared into a gathering of trees.

"_I…don't…know…_"

For a moment, I thought I saw a shadow move through the trees, but I didn't sense anything…


	3. Dracula-The Legend Begins

PRINCIPALITY OF WALLACHIA, 1476

PRINCIPALITY OF WALLACHIA, 1476 

Aaron's sword was obviously expensive, finely crafted and inlaid with some semi-precious stones. No doubt he was cruelly disappointed when my blade smashed his sword into pieces. He withdrew from the battle as Miklos entered swinging a Turkish scimitar at me. Father Stefano amateurishly tried to attack me with his own weapon, but he was a priest, trained to tend to his flock, not to battle against experienced soldiers. I slashed his leg and smoothly blocked Miklos's blow in the same movement. Shoving him back, I prepared for the deathblow when Aaron smashed into my side. My sword clattered to the ground as Miklos ran over and held his blade over my head. 

"It ends, Vlad Dracula," said Stefano as he limped over to me, "Our country will be at peace when we are rid of you."

"Under slavery," I spat back, "You old son-of-a-whore, I trusted you!!"

"God help us, I shall make our people free with your death."

Turning to Miklos he said, "The sultan wants his head."

Miklos nodded and brought the sword down once. Twice. Thrice…

I floated in darkness, seeing the events of my life go by my eyes over and over.

I don't know how long I floated there. Bruno later said my head sat on a pike in Istanbul for three weeks, but it felt like more.

I awoke to darkness. I held up a hand toward the air above me, and felt a heavy ceiling of some sort. The main emotion I remember was not one of terror; no, it was of anxiety and obsession. Thoughts racing through my mind revolved around one idea: _Dig up, dig up, get out, get out, feed, feed, feed, feed!!_ So, I began. I clawed at the "ceiling", and felt some sort of clumped, dusty material fall in on top of me. But I ignored it and kept digging my way upwards. After some time, my fingernails scratched at a hard surface.

I put my hands against it and pushed, greeted by harsh, new light. I pulled myself out and lay upon the floor, staring up at the ceiling. I looked over to the place where the light came from. My eyes adjusted, and I saw an alter to Christ. A Chapel. I had been buried in a Chapel…

I stood, and looked down at my clothes. They were gold-lined robes, the traditionalburial garments of Eastern European royalty. It was then that I received a new feeling…

_Revenge. Where are they? Where?_

I sniffed the air, catching a scent that was somehow familiar. With a growl rising from my throat, I took off in pursuit. The scent took me down the hallways of what I recognized to be Snagov Monastery. The Priests and Nuns of the Monastery were still walking about. They froze in shock at my sight, and I shoved them aside as I continued the hunt.

Finally, I found the place where the scent came from. A wooden door. Locked tight. I banged on the door heavily, remaining silent the entire time. After a while, I could hear two aged lungs suddenly work harder, and the distinct sound of a wooden cane approaching. The door swung open to reveal the Priest Father Stefano.

"Yes, who…" He saw me and his jaw fell open in shock. Trembling wildly, he drew back in terror. His cane fell, and he collapsed on his back. Using his arms to propel himself backward, he began uttering a Latin prayer. I approached him steadily, and his fear heightened. I heard a strange sound and saw his robes darken somewhat in the region of his waist. Approaching him, his prayers became more frightened and wild, his voice rising and falling constantly. My hand, it's nails grown long and sharp, grasped the neck of his robe and pulled him up. His praying, and my knowledge of his treason, began to anger me and I slapped him on one cheek. "Shut up!" I snarled. "You have no right to call yourself a Christian, much less a Priest!! How dare you stay in a Monastery that _I_ founded! Where is your honor?" He then began to cry. My disgust rose immediately. It was a relief to break his neck…

(If you want to read about my version of Dracula, click onto my bio-page and read "Dracula-The Profile".)


	4. Do You Believe?

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-STRENGTH IN DISBELIEF

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-DO YOU BELIEVE?

I leaned against a tree as Mayo sent her Espeon against Pikachu again. A Thunderbolt made it shudder a little.

"You've gotta work on your shield," I said, "If Pikachu can do that just think how much damage an Electabuzz or Raichu might do."

Mayo turned to me and frowned, "He can't help it, Pikachu is more experienced."

I shrugged and yawned. It was dark already and we were practicing by the light of Professor Oak's ranch. After a few minutes, I called off the practice.

"Are you feeling all right, Ash? These days…" I turned to her and she fell silent. Her eyes showed some worry. I smiled at her and hugged her.

"Everything's better now than a few months ago, I promise. I just…need some time."

With that, I put my hand down, and Pikachu ran up my arm to perch on my shoulder.

I began the walk home…

…Only to stop halfway and look up at the stars. The night was clear, and the moon was full.

"_Something wrong, Ash?_"

I shook my head.

"Remember that guy at Professor Oak's place last night?"

Pikachu was silent, except for a chill that I felt run down it's spine.

"_Yes,_" it said finally.

"It's funny; he was a stranger, but…it's like I'm supposed to _know_ him."

After more silence, I began the walk again. As we neared my house, I could see a dark shape approaching us. Although he had changed his necktie, he wore the same color of clothing as before…

"Mr. Graves?" 

He smiled and let out a cloud of smoke. In his right hand, he held a cigarette.

"Ah, Ash Ketchum." He approached and brought the cigarette to his lips, leaving it there with two fingers hovering around it, and then took it out. He wore a long black overcoat, and a black fedora. He looked toward the house, then back at me. "Would I be wrong if I were to say…but, no," he said, his cigarette trailing smoke as he swung it over to indicate Mom's garden, "How foolish…it is common knowledge that your mother's garden is the greatest in Pallet." 

"Uh, thanks. I'll tell her that."

"Do that, please…"

He touched the brim of his hat and went on his way. I couldn't help stare at him as he disappeared into the fog…Fog? Since when does Pallet get fog?

"Ash!! Time for dinner!!"

I still get a little lost in my bed. Sometimes I'll wake up mummified in the sheets, then Mom has to unwrap me, trying hard to stifle her laughter. That's a little hard on the ego…

Tonight, I was definitely going to wake up a mummy.

I floated inside a candlelit room, some kind of cottage; there was a window over to the left. I saw an old man facing me, dressed in blue robes that hung down to his knees, sitting at a rickety old table. I guessed there was another floor because of the stairs behind the man. A door stood to the right. Every now and then he would glance to either side, looking for some enemy I couldn't see. The candle on the table heightened black-rimmed eyes and lines on his face. His right hand, grasping an old wine glass, shook uncontrollably. Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and the old man jumped.

The door swung open and another man stood there, he had blood running down the left side of his face. "Pietro!" shouted the old man, rising to his feet. What sounded like a baby crying came from upstairs. Pietro slumped against the door-frame. The old man went down beside him. "I'm sorry, Lord Aaron," he gasped, I saw blood rising in his mouth, "He…He came out of nowhere. Master Ioni is dead." The crying baby came closer and a woman dressed in white came out holding the crying infant.

"Father, what…My God, Pietro!" Aaron looked up at her, shocked. "Ilyana! Get back to bed!" "Father, he's dying!" Aaron was trembling, either from fear or from anger.

"Pietro, tell me. Was he far…Pietro?" Aaron leaned down and felt the man's chest. He grew pale and turned to Ilyana. "He's dead." She gave a small cry, and tears began to well up. Aaron stood, and stared down at Pietro's body.

"Ioni is also dead," said Aaron quietly, "He was your last brother."

Aaron walked over and sat down again, eyes still on Pietro.

"I have been running for fifteen years, Ilyana. I can't run anymore. Take Anton and go."

Ilyana hesitated. "Go, I say! _He_ won't be far behind! It's me he wants, now _go!_"

She ran into a dark hallway behind me, leaving the old man to stare at the door.

It swung open, revealing a dark-cloaked man with long black hair, and familiar eyes…

The newcomer stared at Aaron for a few seconds before saying, "Aaron, you have betrayed me."

Aaron began trembling hard as the man reached forward with a pale, sharp-nailed hand and grasped his neck, pulling him to his feet. The old man was silent as his enemy pulled out a dagger and showed it to him.

"Do you know what this is, Aaron? This is the dagger with which I slew Vladislav, the Pretender."

As he finished, the man plunged the dagger into Aaron's heart. A few moments later, the old man was dead.

The killer shook his head sadly.

"Why couldn't you have lived as you died, Aaron? Things would be so much better than they are now…"

Ash tossed over again as I fed him the memory of my lament over Aaron's body. The tail of my long black coat hung over the end of his bed as I perched there, staring at him. My fingers clutched the end-board to steady myself as my memories entered his head as dreams. After I was finished, shall I say, 'entertaining' him, I quietly lowered myself down, determined not to wake him up. I then clasped my hands behind my back and wandered through his door, listening to the five pairs of lungs and an equal number of hearts labor away, brooding over my next step.


	5. A Conspiracy To Vanish

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-A CONSPIRACY TO VANISH

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-A CONSPIRACY TO VANISH

BOHEMIA, 1495 

I had entered the abandoned monastery alone. Before me was an assembly of the major vampire chiefs of the region you breathers today call the Czech Republic. These men were often rivals, and I saw them cast threatening glares at each other, their hands on the hilts of their swords. I looked to the elder of the group, a man known as Valec. He rapped a small gavel against the rostrum and the room grew quiet.

I hooked my thumbs in my belt and began to pace in front of the audience.

"My friends; I come to bring you hope. I have heard the plights of vampires from across Europe: black-haired children on top of Ponyta's ride across graveyards, where they stop is where they attack.

Vampires that have fed too much have had their caskets torn open, and wooden stakes plunged into their hearts.

"None of us can possibly estimate how many of our brethren are trapped under running streams. 

How many of our kind are trapped beneath the ground at crossroads?

How many are wrapped in nets, forced to untie those accursed knots until they starve?

How many, I ask you, how many are trapped in their coffins by wild roses until they are driven to the point where they must consume their own flesh?"

I stopped to hear their murmurs to each other.

"He's right."

"I know he is, Good Lord, have you seen what these peasants do to their dead?"

"You should see my home churchyard, it's like there was a damn battle underground."

"I turned my wife the first week I rose, they put her under a stream. Screamed and screamed until she became dust."

I held out my hands widely. 

"What is the cause of such misery? It is the Breathers; they know us too well!"

More murmurs arose as I continued.

"Do you not see? When you gamble you do not hold your cards facing out. _We have done that!_ We have allowed them to gather information about us, to use against us! By word of mouth, our kindred has been destroyed by stories! But…this is no reason to surrender. I, Vlad Dracula, have created a plan to use against our enemies…"

"What is this plan? How sure are you of it?" interjected one of the older members.

I held my hand up, commanding silence. "This plan is not immediate, it's benefits will take many years to take effect; but it _will work_!"

They were interested now.

"We must…use their knowledge against them. We must appeal to their curiosity to disprove our existence. These things: the gift of safety, life, and peace I will give to you if you will follow me!"

The opinion was unanimous. The speech was a success.

I stayed a while longer, talking with some of the chiefs, instructing them to go back, and rally their followers to me. They would receive my orders soon.

Wishing to leave for my resting place as soon as possible, I shut the heavy doors behind me and went on my way. It was quite windy that night. September weather. It was chilly, and falling leaves rapped the road lightly. I remember thinking to myself what a miserable person it must be that would be out on a night like this.

I then put my weight on one foot and propelled myself into the forest. Whipping around, my arm lashed out and caught the frightened young girl who had been following me.

She screamed and tried to escape my grip. "Who are you? What is your purpose here?"

I asked in Czech. She began screaming in Romanian for me to let her go.

"Quiet!" was my response in our shared language. She stopped screaming, but was still visibly upset. My captive was a woman of nineteen, with tanned skin suggesting a long existence in the sun; raven black hair; full red lips; and quite handsome. In other words, a gypsy.

She was painfully thin, and I could tell from her struggles that, though she had excellent strength, it was rendered useless by deep hunger. I studied her for a few moments before relaxing my grip a little.

"Come," I gruffly commanded, "You'd collapse before I could get any information from you."

She was silent as she followed me to a local tavern. Her light, timid footsteps sometimes received an extra supply of blood and adrenaline to try and escape me, but her logic always got the better of her and she kept behind me. I swung the door open and sat at a table, ordering some meat and ale for the girl. I glared at her as she ripped into the bloody meat like a hungry Houndour. "You are…" she began between bites "The great Vlad Dracula, Prince of Wallachia. My father served as a mercenary in your army."

She stopped for a gulp of ale. 

"When you died, my father took the gold that you paid him and fled from the country into Moldavia, where we joined with the rest of our gypsy clan."

I had remained silent as she regarded me and I her. Here now, I spoke.

"How did you find out about me?"

"Shortly after we arrived, the clan's chieftain decided to move into Hungarian territory, for the Turks were menacing Moldavian territory. Upon the way, we came across a _loup-garou_."

I was somewhat surprised. Werewolves were known, of course, to be friendlier to gypsies than to other Breathers. They are pitiful creatures. Many are among the world's homeless, populating the streets of those great, but often cruel metropolises that have risen across the planet.

"He was in his human state, and grateful to be given some food and comradeship for the night."

It was regrettable that I knew the hidden meaning of her words. Gypsies are nomads, impoverished peoples who travel across Asia and Europe. Sadly enough, through the centuries they have developed a reputation for stealing. Of course now, there are those who are truly guilty of thievery, but it is not fair to generalize them as being an entire race of kleptomaniacs. However, there are those who refuse to change their opinion about the _Romany_, this led to the gypsies in joining another group of outcasts, the Jews, in that madman Adolf Hitler's dream of racial purity. (Perhaps someday I will tell you about an odd event that I stumbled upon in 1943 Europe.)

"The werewolf told us about you, and how you had risen and were rally the undead to your cause. Father told me all about what it was like to serve you."

"Yes, yes, but why have you come to me?"  
"My father is dead."

I raised an eyebrow at her and leaned against my chair with a bored look.

"So? It is too late to restore him, if that's what you want. There is nothing to be done now."

"He was killed by a Turkish raiding party led by a man named Miklos."

Now she had my attention…

"He led a brigade of Janissaries into Transylvania, when he came across our train, he massacred my clan."

I could see tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

Miklos. So, he lived and he continued to ruin the lives of innocents. Now, the third man waiting for my vengeance would be destroyed.

"I see…Very good. I shall take care of it."

I reached into my sack for some gold when she grabbed my arm.

"No, please! I want to destroy him!"

I was shocked and stared at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Make me like you, so I can kill him more horribly than he killed my clan. Please…"

"You do not know what you ask!" I grabbed her and lifted her from the chair.

"You can still feel the sun on your face; something you can never do as a _nosferatu_.

No, leave him to me."

I tossed the owner a few gold coins and left. The girl continued to follow me.

"What is your name, child?"

"Constantia."

"Your father will be avenged, Constantia."

With that, I took myself away from that place.

For an idea of what I'm talking about with these vampires, read "Dracula-The Profile".


	6. Visitor from the Shadows

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-A HANDSOME FELLOW

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-A VISITOR FROM THE SHADOWS

By Red Star

Dr. Eve had arrived at Professor Oak's ranch, and set to work examining the documents that Mr. Graves had brought.

"Remarkable. Absolutely remarkable!" she gushed in a French accent, "These scrolls are indeed over four hundred years old! What a find!" Professor Oak could only smile a little helplessly as he said, "Well, Mr. Graves would be happy to loan it over for study to you, I'm sure. But his express wishes were for its translation." 

"Oh yes, that." She smiled at us quite happily. "I'm sorry, I don't know Gaelic."

We fell over from the shock.

"What? But you're supposed to be the genius here!" I cried.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur Ketchum, but this Jonathan Graves is right: Gaelic is a dead language. Only a few people know it completely, and no one is willing to try and revive it now that Ireland is independent. In fact…" her face became thoughtful, "I'm surprised that Monsieur Graves knew enough about it to identify the language."

Professor Oak cringed. I knew why; I wanted to hear what this thing had to say about Mews too.

"However, I do know someone who may be able to help Monsieur Graves."

"Who?" I asked.

"A brilliant man from London: Dr. Albert Van Helsing. He was the one who got me started on studies of ancient civilizations. In fact, he helped bring support from the Royal Archeological Society to my travels. If anyone can translate these scrolls, he can."

Professor Oak nodded. "All right, let's get him here. Oh, Ash, could you please call Mr. Graves' room? I want him informed about this."

As even the tiniest tike in the land knows, I-I, Dracula-must rest during the day.

Of course, this restriction on my freedom applies to the times of my own exhaustion. So, I rolled out my flat bag of earth upon the bed, put a do-not disturb sign on the door, and gratefully fell asleep.

"Ringringring, ringringring, phone call, phone call,"

After an excruciating minute of listening to that racket, I had managed to pull myself out of my sleep enough to roll out of the bed and stumble toward the phone, muttering medieval curses all the way. I grabbed the receiver.

"Yes?" I growled, hoping to frighten them away.

"Uh, good morning, Mr. Graves."

Ash Ketchum was looking at me through the screen. I attempted to rally myself into a state capable of continuing a conversation with him.

"Ah, good morning, Ash. Forgive my rudeness; I'm a little tired today."

"Oh, well," he was silent for a moment, "Professor Oak wanted me to tell you that Dr. Eve is here, but sorry, she doesn't know much about Gaelic."

I nodded. "Thank you, Ash, I appreciate…"

The screen flashed for a second. "Oh, excuse me, Mr. Graves, there's another call."

"Mom?" I said, a little shocked.

"Hi, honey! I just wanted to see how things were going!"

I smiled at her unconsciously. "Everything's fine, Mom. Eve's just looking over Graves' stuff."

She smiled back. "That's good. I have an idea: why don't you invite them over to dinner tonight!"

"Okay, Mom." Then she said something that I didn't think of much at the time, but afterwards would burn into my mind forever.

"Why don't you invite Mr. Graves over too? I'd like to meet him."

I frowned. "But, Mom…he's a little…"

"What?"

"Well…creepy."

"Now, Ash, I'm sure he's a nice man once you get to know him."

After this conversation with his dear mother, Ash turned his attention back to me.

"Uh, Mr. Graves?"

I smiled calmingly. "Yes, Ash?"

"My mom wants to know if you would like to come over for dinner."

I am somewhat pleased to report that I did not blink once at this strange occurrence. Lord Ruthven had already provided me with the dossier on this woman, and she tended to act in this friendly manner. 

"At what time do you eat?" I asked.

"About seven,"

"Ah," I gave him my most benevolent gaze, "I'd be delighted. I'll be there at seven sharp."

Later on…

Dad sat in the living room with James watching TV. Dad…Giovanni…had built a cottage for Jesse, James, and Meowth next door. It wasn't anything really fancy; they had lived in much worse. They worked in the gym that Dad built at the end of town.

"Now, back to our top story. A few minutes ago, the Russian Army crossed the Danube River and completely occupied Budapest, the capital of Hungary, without firing a shot. Thousands of jubilant Hungarians are in the streets, hoisting portraits of Russian Emperor Dane I everywhere and greeting the Imperial Army with flowers and wine. To the south, Russian troops have taken over Romanian bases and are proceeding across the border to Yugoslavia."

The familiar face of Dane I appeared on the set, making a speech to a packed room.

"The dream…the Great Dream of every Russian…the dream to unite all Slavs under our banners is as old as Russia herself, and after all this time, after centuries of work and labor, our efforts are finally being rewarded!"

Loud applause echoed from the set as I settled into a seat between James and Dad. We all watched the Emperor wave down the crowd's roar. 

"Our victory comes by the road built by all Slavs, who have suffered through centuries of oppression by foreign powers; this road was built under a tempest of tyranny to reach a land where the sun of freedom burns brightly. Let the world know that…"

_Ding-dong!_

I quickly changed into my human self, which caused James to move nervously away. I'm not sure what unsettled him more, my being Giovanni's son, or my being a Mew.

Everybody was there by now; Professor Oak, Mayo, and Eve.

Mom looked anxiously out the window. "I wonder where Mr. Graves is, it's almost seven."

"Well, Mom, he said he'd be here at seven sharp."

"You're sure?"

"His words, not…"

_Ding-dong!_

Dad was closest, he turned the knob and swung the door open wide.

There he stood. His clothes were finely tailored, black, with a black tie covered with little red designs. His black shoes were excellently polished, and his piercing blue eyes stared out from under closely combed hair. In his right hand, he held a bottle of wine.

"Ah, Mr. Ketchum, I presume?"

Dad nodded and…

But now, allow me-Dracula-to tell this piece of the tale again. I bowed a little at the hips in a fashion that I have found to flatter most people in these modern times, and presented the wine.

"Than you for inviting me into your home, sir; forgive me if I cause you some discomfort, I am yet a stranger to your beautiful town."

The Ketchum father was a little off-put by my manners. He never really cared for members of high society, and I was obviously-as some put it-born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Ah, the expression on his face if he knew I was really born to the purple! But I digress…

Delia had laid out her usual feast in the dining room, I smelled it from outside the house as I approached. Dispensing my greetings to the females as we were introduced (I believe Eve and Billie blushed at my bow and the words 'Your servant.') 

After sitting down to dine, I began to regale them with tales of a fake military service between bites.

"…And so," I said as I swallowed a piece of beef covered with an unfamiliar sauce, "The Colonel arrives, takes one look at my tank and says 'Mom?'" Laughter made it's rounds around the table as I cut off another piece and ate it. 

The Breathers surrounding me made sounds of approval as they sampled each of the dishes that Delia had placed on the table. 

"This is great, Mrs. Ketchum; where'd you learn to cook such good food?" said Billie, with her gray eyes flashing with delight.

Her grandmother, Amanda, was the Blue-Prize winner of the Vermillion City Cook-Off Jamboree for twelve years before retiring from the public scene to teach Gyradoes training to zoos nationwide…

"Oh, I just picked it up along the road…"

"I remember when Sarah was alive. She was a brilliant woman, but she insisted that she couldn't cook toast," said Professor Oak.

Professor Sarah Oak. Died of cancer three years before Ash was born. Samuel Oak could always rely on his neighbor Delia for support more than his son, who'd moved to Cerulean City where he died in a car crash eight years ago.

"Our chef at the estate was highly recommended. I wonder where he is now…"

Monsieur De Leou. Left soon after little James ran away. It seems that the youngest scion of the Monroe family was the only one that the master chef could stand to be around.

"I could eat a sweaty old shirt, and it would still be a big improvement over the food that I ate at the Academy."

She graduated from the Archeological Academy of Paris with honors at the age of fourteen. Since then, she has returned thrice to lecture on Pokemopolis.

I looked down at my plate. The meal was over.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Ketchum; may I use your washroom?"

She smiled at me in that sunny manner of hers.

"Certainly. Its up the stairs, to the right."

I thanked her, put down my napkin, and walked calmly toward the stairs. Already, my system growled in protest at the worthless trash that I had shoved into it. As soon as I could be certain that they could not hear my progress, I ran to the bathroom, hurled open the door, slammed it shut and opened the toilet. I curled over and vomited into the bowl, throwing out the food that was of no use to my ancient body. 'Don't give me this crap! ,' I could imagine it would scream, 'I need blood! Lovely blood! You can't live on this filth!' At the end, I wiped my face clean of the waste with a Kleenex, which I promptly threw into the toilet bowl. After this, I fell on my side and waited for my strength to return.

_Such a pity. Delia is a wonderful cook._


	7. The First Sire

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE FIRST SIRE

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE FIRST SIRE

KINGDOM OF HUNGARY, 1497 

My sword slapped the sides of my boots as I paced anxiously in the forest clearing with three men and our steeds. The moon was full that night, and the raging bonfires of a nearby camp played upon our dark-clothed bodies. Finally, I stopped and lopped off the top of a few nearby weeds. 

"Where is Matthias?" I demanded of one of my guides.

He looked up the road nervously. "Just a few moments, Prince Dracula; Matthias is very reliable. I'm sure that when he returns, what he has will be worth the wait."

I heard the pounding of hooves and turned to see a mounted figure approach. His Ponyta's flames showed excellent breeding, as far as I could tell. His beard and vanishing hairline were gray from lack of blood. He leaped off the horse and reached into his sack while kneeling. I motioned impatiently for him to rise.

"Prince Dracula, it took much gold and some time, but I have that information you asked for." He eagerly drew out some old papers and handed them over to me. I opened it and read the words, the account of a local prison warden. I paced a little again, and smiled.

"Thanks be to God, he's still alive."

Matthias nodded. "It appears that his years as a slave served him well, physically, my lord."

I sighed in relief. _He_ was alive, and we would soon work together again, just like in the old days. Then, something unexpected happened.

"I apologize for my lateness, sir, but there is some sort of battle going on near the prison. Some gypsies are…"

I can't remember how I got on my horse or how I had sent it into such high speeds as I raced for the smell of burning flesh.

A wagon was right in the old dirt road. Someone had tried to whip his horses into high-speed. His corpse, the chest still wet and red with the blood that escaped from his neck, had its head slumped over, his eyes frozen in a mix of rage and terror. As I passed it, I could see the door on the back of his wagon was open, with a white arm hanging out and blood dripping from the bottom. Around me were burning wagons, corpses wrapped in bloodied sashes and rags with arrows emerging from their torsos, and wandering Pokemon that were looking for food from the camp.

I dismounted, and walked quietly, my ears trying to locate any signs of life.

A faint heartbeat echoed in the night…

I approached one wagon that had had it's front wheels torn violently off. Lying beside it were too older people; dead, with their ears cut off as trophies. I noticed something coming out of the wood of the carriage. The tip of a bastard sword*. 

I threw open the door and climbed inside. My eyes could see a girl standing limp against the wall, the handle and most of the sword emerging from her stomach. I carefully approached her and listened a little. Her heartbeat remained, barely. Her breath was short and quiet.

I gripped the handle of the sword and pulled it out. She wailed in pain. I tossed the sword aside and grasped her carefully, leading her outside. 

Once out of the wagon, I gently laid her on the ground. Her eyes opened, and they focused on my face.

"It has been a while, Lord Impaler," she said quietly.

"Constantia. Miklos?"

She weakly nodded, and coughed some blood into my face. I let out my tongue and licked the small flecks off. 

"He…found us," she said, having to pause for deep breath, which only invited more blood to be evacuated onto my face, "He…took…auntie's gold ring…killed uncle…on sight." She grimaced as she lay there dying. She looked up at me pleadingly. 

Constantia had watched her parents butchered, and now, the coward Miklos had murdered more of her innocent family.

What more perfect retribution?

My fangs emerged from my upper gums, and my eyes went red. I breathed quietly, inhaling some of her scent and searching for a vein. Finding one, I leaned over and pierced the jugular. She took a small, sharp gasp as I tasted her blood. Coming back up again, I opened my shirt and-with the long sharp nail on my right pointer finger-made a cut on my chest. Taking her head in my hand, I guided her hungry mouth to my wound. She opened her trembling lips and drank my blood, allowing the gift of undeath to take her.

I buried her under a willow tree, a few miles away. I then purchased a goblet and decanter. And picked up a wild Ratata as well. All that was needed now was a day for her to adjust…


	8. A Handsome Fellow

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-A HANDSOME FELLOW…

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-A HANDSOME FELLOW…

It is now that I-I, Dracula-should bring in a key moment in our story…

The crowd cheered as Misty Waterflower stepped out from behind the curtains onto the diving board in her mermaid costume. She was glad that they couldn't see the chaos behind the scenes as she struggled to pull on the tight "tail" and somehow manage to be able to acknowledge their applause in person. She jumped off the board after taking a deep breath and swam around the "mermaid princess's" Water-Pokemon friends. 

The act went on, as it always did, and she could finally get into that clam, pull on her oxygen-extractor, and wait for her cue. And while she waited, her mind turned inevitably to her friend in Pallet.

Brock, Ritchie, and herself had stayed on for a few months, but Ash had obeyed Professor Oak's wishes and agreed to stall his journey for a while. Ritchie had his own ambitions in the league, Brock went off to learn more about being a breeder, and Misty declared to anyone who listened she had better things to do than stick around while Ash took his time as always. Nobody seemed to believe it, not even Misty herself.

Ever since she met the boy from Pallet, she had seen him rise to every occasion to prove himself…but to who?

She had asked him that one night as they lay under the stars. Brock was sound asleep, and Pikachu snuggled against Ash's chest contentedly. 

"Dad," he answered, his eyes brimming with admiration and pride.

"Who is he?"

"A great Pokemon trainer. One of the best."

"What's his name?"

He was silent at that, and began absentmindedly stroking Pikachu, the latter purring happily at the unexpected attention.

"Well…I don't know…" he answered, "But Mom has told me about him for years. He's always sending us money for us to live on, and Mom says he was proud of me and that he was always saying his son would be a great trainer, just like him."

Misty was silent at that. Her younger friend didn't know his father, and yet sought to gain the man's approval. Suddenly, Ash didn't seem so random, so erratic; now, the vision of a house that appeared as if a tank had been driven in, repaired, and driven out again was replaced by the image of that red-haired woman (Ash carried a picture of his mother with him) holding a little boy clutched to her chest as she pointed out some items in a photo-album. 

The giant clam opened again, and she swam out again…

…to see two green eyes on the most gorgeous face she had ever seen stare out at her from beyond the tank. She hesitated only a little. Sure, men could be handsome, but then, they'd turn out to be full of crap.

Forgive my chuckle, but if only she knew…

If anyone had asked his name, he would have said Randy. His hair was black, and tied back in a ponytail. He was unusually attractive, causing the blonde at the ticket office to practically squeal with joy when his hand brushed against hers as he took his ticket. He wore a long black coat, with a navy-blue shirt and khakis'. He smiled to no one in particular as he sat in his seat, allowing all girls within eyesight to think that they had a chance with him. He applauded when the red-head had appeared, thinking that she wasn't so bad looking. Interesting.

After the show was over, "Randy" went out into a neighbor's garden, pulled up a few white roses. He dusted away some fake dust and proceeded inside.

He knocked lightly on a door marked with a star, albeit the star was smaller than the other girl's. The door opened to reveal the young star of the show. 

"Yes?"

The man smiled and made a little bow.

"A wonderful show, Miss. Waterflower. Please," he held up the flowers daintily, "Accept these from a grateful, poor soul."

She opened the door wider, and cautiously accepted them. She walked over to her dresser, while Randy entered her room. She was out of her costume, wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her head. She laid them down on the dresser and turned to the man, making sure the door was opened wide enough, she didn't want to be left alone too long with this stranger.

"I'm sorry, _poor_ soul, you said."

"Yes," Randy turned to her from looking at a picture taken at the Indigo League, his face full of anguish, "My brother, you see. Many years ago, we had an argument and he disappeared. I heard from a friend that he was around here and I just want to see him and apologize, but I can't find him anywhere."

Misty had to feel sorry for him she had to admit.

_Ah, well. One more good deed won't hurt, will it?_

"Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?"

Randy was silent, then he broke into a grim smile.

"As a matter of fact…"

She only blinked for a moment when he suddenly appeared beside the door and slammed it shut. With horrifying speed and incredible strength, he grabbed her, cupped a hand over her mouth, and shoved her against the wall. She screamed against his flesh, and he put on a slightly comforting smile and shook his head with his eyes closed.

"No, no, my dear. I'm not going to rape you, most certainly not. I am a gentleman!"

He opened his eyes and Misty screamed even louder and struggled with a strength she never even suspected existed: the stranger's eyes were now red. He smiled at her and leaned back a little, opening his mouth as if for a great yawn. His canines grew longer until they were menacingly long and sharp. He then faced her again.

"No, indeed. I accept your offer: you can help me a great deal. I can finally see my older brother again after all these years.

And with that, he bit her jugular vein and began to drink…


	9. The Traitors Destroyed

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE TRAITORS DESTROYED

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE TRAITORS DESTROYED

KINGDOM OF HUNGARY, NEAR THE WALACHIAN BORDER

I found Miklos' camp three weeks later. Constantia, rested and refreshed, traveled beside me as the trailing elements of the Janissary Brigade tried to keep ahead of the Royal Army. Miklos had set up a camp to supervise the last Turkish Forces withdrawing from the raid, and he had only a few hundred men to guard him against the 10,000 soldiers of the Hungarian King. 

The guards, men borrowed from the Sultan's personal troops, were clumsy when we attacked. Constantia broke the necks of three of them who didn't even have swords drawn. We burst into the camp, killing every Turk that dared come our way. We ripped open Miklos' tent, grabbed the man-who was cowering under his map table-and dragged him out of the tent into the forest before the Turks could rally.

"Oh, God! Please, Vlad, have mercy! Please!"

He was crying, barely resembling the warrior I knew from twenty years before. 

It was repulsive.

I slapped him roughly, my sharp nails leaving scratches that were now welling up with blood. He wailed loudly and fell back, sobbing loudly. I then picked him up by the scruff of his shirt and shook him.

"What did you do with her?" I demanded.

Through a face streaked with tears, blood, and dirt, he had the gall to whimper, "Who?"

My fist clenched, I smashed against his chin, sending three teeth flying. This caused him to scream in pain, which only infuriated me even more: he should know how much I hate screaming!

"Lydia! What did you do with her, traitor?"

He winced. Wrong answer. I slapped him again. Constantia was silent as she watched me beat him, possibly wondering if I was truly mad.

"All right! All right!" he cried. He collapsed to the ground and trembled before me, his shaking arms raised before him in a pitiful attempt to protect himself.

"I slew her…with my sword across her throat…a day after you escaped Tirgoviste. I gave her a short burial."

"Where?!"

His lips trembled as he muttered, "I…I…I don't…know."

I stepped back and stared at him. It was only then that I noticed the gold and jewel encrusted dagger stuck in the belt that was stretching to accommodate his expanded gut.

He betrayed his homeland, killed his own people, murdered a little girl, all for the riches that the Sultan offered him.

"I see…" was all I could say. I gave a somewhat benevolent smile to him. 

"You were a great soldier in the days before you were corrupted by the Muslim infidels, Miklos; for that, I fell able to forgive you."

He burst into tears, tears of joy and relief.

"Unfortunately, I cannot speak for dear Constantia. What would you say, my dear?"

Miklos turned to see a red-eyed Constantia reach forward and pick him up by the throat. She grinned, showing long white fangs, which she promptly sank into Miklos's neck. I tapped my finger on my left elbow in annoyance until he finally stopped screaming.

Constantia now appeared about fifteen years old. She really was quite attractive…

But no. I had things to do. My vengeance would not be complete until I destroyed those who put my people against me. It would take time, money, and new developments… 

In England, Henry VII had united the country. Already by this time, the English nobility had it's power slashed by the Royal Family as communication and education increased to such a level that the King could now rule his lands with confidence. In France, Louis XI tightened his grip on the French nobility and instituted absolute rule. Spain had driven out the Islamic Moors and had sent off Christopher Columbus with a small flotilla to explore the world to the west. New ideas were spreading. Architecture, painting, literature, science, government, all would be impacted by these new developments. Now, if I could find a way to influence these events, it would put an end to vampire hunts once and for all. Science, perhaps? That will take some gold to put into action…

"_See the little dancing cats, without a care in the sky…_"

I turned on my mount to look back at Constantia, who was looking over at the moon and softly singing to herself.

"_Their eyes so blue like the sea. Their voices as soft as the meadow's rose…_"

"I beg your pardon?"

She snapped back to me. She cleared her throat and looked down at the reins in her hands. 

"Its…its just a song my mother used to sing."

My Rapidash stumbled a little. I reached down and patted it's neck when she began asking…

"Whatever happened to your mother?"

"She died giving birth to my brother."

"Oh, your brother? I didn't know…"

I turned back to her and snapped, "Enough! I do not wish to discuss my brother!"

There was a little silence before she asked, "What happened to your father?"

I sighed. "He was buried alive by the _Boyars_ in Tirgoviste."

"Oh…I'm sorry."

"Why? It is not as if you could have done anything."

More silence.

"Did your mother ever sing?"

I turned back to her and smirked.

"I don't remember, or for that matter believe that she did. Mama and Papa were usually busy with affairs of state and besides," I looked forward again, "I had to train to be a soldier-no, to be a leader. I do not think that singing would be useful in times of war…unless it is to raise morale."

I turned back again, "And anyway, what is that song about?"

"Mews." 


	10. The Old Man

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE OLD MAN

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE OLD MAN

It was the middle of the night when the phone rang. I awoke, groaned when I recognized the noise, and shut my eyes tight to try and fall asleep again. The door flew open and Mom came in and flipped the lights on and I sat up.

Mom? I glanced at the clock, It's twelve…

"Ash, it's Misty."

Now I was awake and she had my attention.

AT THAT MOMENT IN VERIDIAN CITY…

His limp kept him from going as fast as he would have liked to go. He was dressed in a gray jacket, with a blue vest and red tie. In his right hand was a briefcase, in his left an old wooden cane. His glasses were thick, and revealed intelligent green eyes. His pipe and a tin of tobacco were within his jacket. The old man walked over to an escalator to go and fetch his luggage.

I-Dracula-was watching _Inherit the Wind_ in my hotel room with a "Bloody Bomber" in my right hand. This concoction is a mixture of any kind of liquor and blood, which is more necessary for the survival of the_ nosferatu_. 

My cell-phone rang on the table beside me. I picked it up. One of my subordinate companies, for the specific use of either myself or a chosen few who were worthy of direct contact, specially manufactured the phone. Three small lights were on the phone, each with an individual color. This one was now flashing red.

I pressed the speaker button and held it to my ear.

"Dracula here,"

"Vlad, I have some news."

As the light indicated, it was Lord Ruthven, my intelligence chief.

"What is it? I told you to call me only under the most extreme conditions."

"Sorry, Vlad, but this demands your attention. Albert Van Helsing is heading for Indigo and may be there now."

I could imagine the surprise on my lieutenant's face when he realized just how calm I was.

"Vlad, Albert is…"

"I am aware of the gentleman's heritage, Ruthven, and it is irrelevant. I have taken greater care in disguising my presence on this world and I sincerely doubt that he has any wish to enter combat with me at such an advanced age." 

"I know that, Prince, but we don't want to take any chances. Please, Vlad, if you don't do this for your own safety then please do it for the Order of the Dragon…"

"Enough. If it ends this mindless prattling I will leave Pallet for a short time, is this satisfactory?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, Vlad, but…"

"Just get back to work; I thought I told you to track down those two unaccounted Team Rocket refugees…Butch and Cassidy, yes?"

"Well, Vlad…that will take a while but…"

"This conversation is over. Find those two, they were the most dangerous members, you know. Goodbye."

CERULEAN CITY, NEXT DAY

At first, I thought her head was on fire; so much had her skin paled. She was hooked up to a bag full of donated blood and her blonde sister-Daisy-sat staring at her. This made me feel out of place, as I remembered the ditzy babbler that I knew before. Violet and Lily were someplace else apparently getting coffee. 

Giovanni laid down, with a burdened grunt, the flowers that Mom had brought on the table by the bed. I was quiet as I regarded the redhead that slept so peacefully on the pillows gathered under her head. I've never expected that Misty could be so easily taken down; the tomboy was always so rough with us that I was surprised that her three big sisters still had all limbs attached. The first-and seemingly only-moment of weakness I ever saw in her was when we encountered Caterpie. She was driven into such a panic that I could only laugh at her, up to then she had been such a bully…

"…Forgive me, Professor, but this current emergency requires my close supervision. I hope I can entrust these precious documents to your care?"

Professor Oak nodded, "Yes, Mr. Graves, and I'm sorry about your oil rig. No one was hurt?"

"Thankfully not, Professor…I must leave now. Until we meet again, Professor…"

…I then noticed a red spot on Misty's neck. I leaned in closely to look at it. The spot was kind of like the area of a rash, you know?

Within the spot were two weird little marks that looked like something bit her…


	11. The Encounter of Myths

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE OLD MAN

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE ENCOUNTER OF MYTHS

TRANSYLVANIA PROVINCE, AUSTRIAN EMPIRE, 1723

It was the night of St. Georges's Day, and I was busying myself with the restoration of my funds. Every year, blue flames mark the presence of buried treasure in the Land Beyond the Forest, and I return every year to dig up some artifact. I've uncovered gold coins, scepters, swords, boxes of silks, crowns, little statues, and crucifixes. Silver is also a populous item. Any furs that I found I gave to some gypsy servants as a reward for excellent service. Over the years, my catacombs were soon stuffed with the hiding places of various forms of wealth.

But, forgive me, I digress…

I had spent a rather successful night in the ruins of an old fortress. I had found several gold pieces and jeweled swords, so much that the box I used for collection of these items quickly filled as daylight approached. Seeing more blue blazes littered around the place, I commanded a squadron of Noctowls to stand on the spots to mark the places where I would find more treasure. (Ah, do not worry about these handsome Pokemon: the blue flames are like the common apparition. You could bathe in gasoline and safely walk through them.)

I then hefted the strap of my box over my shoulder and set off for my castle. The quickly rising sun brought down the utter of medieval curses on the situation. Fortunately though, I was near a cave that I had marked for just this sort of happening.

After descending into the cave to a level where the sun's rays could not burn my skin, I looked for an appropriate resting place. Finding a little cove etched by nature's hands into the wall, I took off my cloak and folded it to serve as a pillow. My box clasped in my grip, I lay down in the cove and slowly fell into the sleep typical of my kind. 

My eyes were already open when I first heard the noises. This is not the symptom of an insomniac or a light-sleeper, but normal behavior for _nosferatu_. When we sleep, our eyes-serving as another block in the rather small wall that divides us from Breathing humans-stay open. As such, when we are resting we are completely aware of our surroundings yet in the dream state that Breathers associate with sleeping. This is partly a defense mechanism, allowing us to rally ourselves in case a would-be vampire hunter tried to attack us in our beds.

My senses told me that dawn reigned in the sky again, forbidding escape through the cave entrance. Admittedly, I sighed in some relief that I was out of range of the sun. I had seen too many old friends suffer terribly as they finally realized True Death.

It was then that I began hearing three soft, small heartbeats. As they approached I also detected six small lungs working hard.

…Hurry up! We can't let any humans see us!

I'm coming, I'm coming! Geez, it's spooky in here…

Come on, we can still make the castle!

They came into my cavern and my eyes shifted to see three odd little creatures with blue eyes and pink bodies. They looked like floating cats. Floating, arguing cats that is.

I can't believe you still want to go to that place. Haven't you heard all the stories about Castle Dracula?

One of them seemed to smirk and turned toward what appeared to be the younger of the group.

What? That vampire nonsense?

Yes! In case you didn't notice, none of the humans are too crazy about even building huts within two miles of that place.

Spare me, Anthony. You saw all those campfires by the castle…

Those are his slaves!

_Followers, actually_, I thought to myself as I went over the list of Pokemon that I knew of.

Nekiro, Anthony is obviously scared. I think we should…

No! No, Gerhard! I can handle it! Anthony tried to puff himself up and look brave.

Nekiro rolled his eyes and then seemed to notice something over Anthony's shoulder…of course, Anthony's back was to me.

A human!!

Anthony and Gerhard leaped into the air…and slammed into the ceiling. 

After that, I began to summon my strength to move myself. I had no intention of being "discovered" by a bunch of strange looking Pokemon.

Gerhard floated close, appearing not to notice my steady gaze. He leaned his head against my chest and waited a moment. A sound of relief emerged from him as he turned back to his companions.

It's all right; this one is dead.

Small comfort, Anthony grumbled.

Are you sure? asked Nekiro, who regarded me with a nervous stare.

His heart does not beat, and his lungs have no air. He must have come here and died.

Anthony hesitatingly floated closer to me.

He looks a little young to be dead, doesn't he?

Gerhard shrugged. You never know with humans. They die when the time comes.

At this moment, the sleep-induced paralysis had faded away from my right hand and I promptly tightened my grip on my box. The three Pokemon continued discussing me while I fought to regain control of my body.

I wonder what he died of…

Probably some disease. That's probably why he was put in such an isolated place.

Hey, what's in this box?

Anthony hovered over me and tried to open my gold box. My right hand whipped up reflexively and wrapped my long-nailed fingers around the thing's throat. He cried out.

"Meeewwww!!!!" 

"A Mew, is it?" I rasped tiredly. Gerhard and Nekiro were frozen with surprise. I reached over with my left hand and grabbed the box. I regarded the Mews silently. I then casually tossed the little creature aside.

"I'm in no condition," I said, a little wobbly from being risen from such a deep sleep, "to continue our little conversation further. If you're interested in visiting my castle, it would please me to give you a tour, though. Good day."

I turned my back and lurched deeper into the cave, leaving three shocked Mews floating behind me.


	12. The Deadly Truth

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE DEADLY TRUTH

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE DEADLY TRUTH

"This is indeed Gaelic, which I happen to speak quite well, if I do say so myself."

So proclaimed Professor Albert Van Helsing to his student, Dr. Eve. She smiled happily at the professor.

"Great, Professor! I told Monsieur Ash and Professor Oak that you could translate these scrolls as easily as le Meine flows!"

"I'll have a translation for you in about half-an-hour. Do you have some business to attend to?"

She smiled and nodded, leaving the Briton to his work.

The septuagenarian peered through his glasses at the scroll as he scribbled down the English version. He had to stop every now and then to put down the pen and flex his hand.

He hummed a little to himself as he wrote down the words, an old English drinking song learned in his youth, which he often spent in pubs between speeding past tests that the old men (the irony!) with glasses, black robes, and drooping faces had tossed onto his desk.

That was before the call came that his grandfather was lying in a hospital in Blackpool, dying.

Before what the Van Helsing family called "the Knowledge" came onto his shoulders that would soon rapidly age…

"When you get right down to it," said Ambrose Van Helsing, with a heavy bound notebook in an emaciated right hand that amazingly seemed to radiate strength, "Jewels, gold, silver…such things are temporary on this earth. Now, don't give me that mocking look, my boy; all things deteriorate to give birth to new things. My grandfather's corpse is feeding the grass that feeds the rabbit that feeds the hunter that kills it who then goes into the loo and…"

"Grandfather!" cried young Albert, while Ambrose playfully nudged the boy from his bed. The boy had always felt very close to his grandfather, who lived as an aristocrat but could be as comfortable in the dockyards as a mansion in Nottingham. 

"But let me tell you something that _is_ permanent, son: blood.

"You've read your Bible and worshipped at the Church and prayed for victory, haven't you? If we are all from Eve's womb then we're all basically a massive family inbreeding ourselves into oblivion, as the disease striking our Royal Families every now and then show*. 

"If, like Father Darwin says**, we evolved, then we still share the same past as a single bloody organism as tiny as a bacterium.

"Even old Winnie, over in London, did you know he's a distant cousin of President Roosevelt in America***?

Blood is a bond stronger than any steel chain ever molded. Blood is what unites us all, Albert. And this book proves it."

Ambrose handed Albert the book, which title Albert immediately read out loud:

"The Vampire: Studies and Contemplations by Professor Abraham Van Helsing, M.D."

Albert looked up at his grandfather, with an odd face. Ambrose smirked at him knowingly and motioned for him to open it.

Albert just shook his head as he read through the first few notes in his great-grandfather's book.

"Grandfather. I don't understand, what is…"

"The point? The point is that everything in that book _is real!_"

…And so, he knew it all. 

"There, done!" He put the pen down and examined his work.

And behold, He shall raise them to a height above normal men and give them gifts of wisdom and long life.

_ _

_But, as their numbers increase, so shall their vanity. And He shall look upon them and be displeased. He shall choose One to raise above them and shall make him greater than they. But lo, there shall be two challenges set against this Chosen One._

_Beware, for the darkness within may overcome him, and another will be chosen to smite him._

_ _

_Should the Chosen One survive the first test, He shall smile upon this One, and drive all darkness from this One's body._

_ _

_But lo, as foretold there shall be a second test. But there shall be another of his kind; chosen by He Who Rules the Skies. Together, they shall vanquish this evil one, and the Chosen One shall become the Father of a New Destiny._

_ _

_ _

Van Helsing felt very pleased with himself. It wasn't every day that a seventy-seven year-old man could translate an ancient document in fifteen minutes.

But then he took a closer look at the yellowing and the frailty of the scroll…

Eve returned from her dig at the agreed time. She was always pleased to have new mysteries to uncover. Who knows? Perhaps the scrolls could lead to more information about Pokemopolis!

She entered the Oak Mansion and was about to call out her greeting when she saw the Professor standing on the stairs, his hand on the banister as he looked down at her.

"Professor! Is it finished?"

Van Helsing nodded, he seemed somewhat disappointed, judging from the sag of his shoulders.

"Professor, what's wrong?"

He looked into her eyes before dropping the bomb.

"Dr. Eve, the scroll I just translated is a complete forgery."

*Royal Families back in the 18th and 19th centuries had married close relatives so often that weird diseases started to pop up. George III was a victim of this, signified by his mental deterioration, blue urine, and eventual blindness. A more tragic example is that of Prince Alexei of Russia in the 1900s, who suffered from a disease that prevented clotting, meaning the very real danger of him bleeding to death.

**Charles Darwin was actually a Priest of the Church of England, pretty ironic when you consider that it's mostly the Church that objects to his theory.

***It's true! No kidding!


	13. Team Rocket Blasts Off!

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-TEAM ROCKET BLASTS OFF

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-TEAM ROCKET BLASTS OFF!

LONDON, ENGLAND, 1969

The skyscraper had gargoyles placed at various places, marble floors and stairs, chandeliers in the lobby and some of the meeting rooms specially marked to impress, various sculptures hanging off the walls and greeting visitors in the hallway, the whole building amazingly gothic and "old school".

Perfect. If the dear reader will remember Van Helsing's slanderous novel, new buildings would kill me, especially the hideous ones that those younger fools began dumping all over the landscape. I prefer grand old buildings, buildings that are lovingly built, with great care to detail. In other words, I like things that remind me of the old days.

Using the gold I had gathered over the centuries, plus the various connections that had allowed the Order of the Dragon to gather even more wealth, I had created, in the thirties, a massive corporation I named the Draculesti Group, of which I was the Chairman. The Draculesti Group is generally a confederation of companies, working together, sharing resources to help each other produce items. Of course, much of the profits go to the Order's coffers. But now, on with the tale…

I was in my office that evening, at the top floor of the building. A large oak desk occupies the office, with a high-backed leather chair. On the desk is a short sword in front of my blotter, with a lamp on my right and a pen in it's holder. Most of these items are dark in color, as you can imagine.

The floor is marble, and is covered with a large rug showing a battle scene from my past.

Behind me, in gold plating, is the Order's symbol, for you see I also run the Order of the Dragon from here. 

On one wall is a large, old-fashioned map, bordered by gold and the Dragon symbol in the lower-center.

I was looking over the designs for a new assault vehicle that was contending for a Canadian Army requirement when the intercom buzzed to life.

"Sir, Lord Ruthven and Mr. Bruno to see you."

My two closest advisers were not supposed to see me today. What did they want?

Lord Ruthven, dressed in a black single-breasted suit, and Bruno, wearing the same, walked in with agitated looks on their faces. Ruthven clutched a file in his hand.

"Vlad, we have a situation in Johto!"

I leaned back and calmly replied, "Where?"

"Near the Charicific Valley, sir, in one of our breeding centers!" Ruthven stepped forward and pressed a button on my desk, taking the initiative. The map slid upwards, revealing a large television screen.

I had earlier been reviewing a recent scheme concerning the former Belgian Congo, so it took a few more presses to get onto a news channel. 

But it still tore me out of my seat.

A newswoman stood in front of what looked like a shattered building that had been built into the mountain. A glass dome at the top was smashed, and it appeared as if a monstrous concrete worm had emerged from the ground to bite at something with sharp, jagged teeth. A large deck that had earlier stretched out over a flowing river was now broken, the other half lay in the river in the form of large, broken stones. A playground that had been laid out over a stream under a waterfall was now twisted metal and splintered wood, with ripped-up tires and bits of rope scattered about. Black smoke poured out of the building itself. I could see people working around the site, police officers and firemen.

I listened to the woman speak, "…massive damage was inflicted on the Little Joys Pokemon Breeding Center today, after a mass attack by criminals using Pokemon to create confusion and to break open doors and walls. We have a confirmed five people dead or wounded and a number of pokemon stolen. The police…"

I clicked the mute button.

"How many?" I asked.

"About twenty-five, my Prince," Bruno answered, "Five Raichu, eight Grabbler, four Chikorita, two Cyndaquil, and two Hoot-Hoot."

I turned to them. My hand reached out, palm up, the fingers in a position ready to snap shut, and Ruthven slid the folder into my hand. I opened the folder and began reading. When I hit an interesting point on the list, my eyes turned inexorably upward.

"Fifteen million dollars?"

Ruthven cleared his throat and scratched his head nervously.

"Well, you see, Vlad, some of the Pokemon in question are rare and…"

"Really? Is there some gold type I am not aware of? Are these Pokemon made out of pearls or something? How much do they cost? Combined?"

Ruthven sighed and answered, "About $200,000,"

I blinked. "That's only $8000 apiece. What the other 14.8 million?"

"Well, Vlad, the attack destroyed some expensive equipment. Computers, special lights for the more nocturnal Pokemon, incubators, and refrigerators, not to mention our obviously useless security and defense system, that's one million right there.

"Now for the items that are to help keep the Pokemon busy; toys, plants, fruit, chow, exercise equipment, the playground, and the baths.

"Let's not forget everything needed to maintain those things; spare toys, fertilizer, pots and pans, tools, shampoos and soaps, special toothpaste, floss, and towels.

"Add that to the individual resting areas, with their beds, blankets and pillows.

"Those items, which were purchased in a five-year supply, all add up, Vlad, to another one million. Most of these items were destroyed in the attack. The rest of the money will go to construction crews and the surviving families or to paying medical bills."

I was angry, and I believe my eyes began glowing red.

"Who…committed this…this travesty?"

Bruno pursed his lips. "They called themselves 'Team Rocket'."

I looked at him in disbelief. "They actually told our men their name?"

"Yeah, in some freaky poem thing. 'Prepare for trouble' or something…"

Ruthven turned toward me grimly.

"Vlad, I have more bad news. Radu's been sighted again."

I could _feel_ the red power radiating from my eyeballs. 

"_Where?_" I thundered.

My two lieutenants slowly pulled back.

"In Veridian City, Vlad. He has a Breathing companion, some woman in a red suit with black hair. My men have identified her as a Pokemon Trainer called Madeline Ketchum."

**I need some more reviews on this thing here!!** And if you hadn't heard, Dragoness (the author of the original 'Ash/Mew' stories) is writing a new story called One Heart. Go check it out if you haven't seen it. 


	14. The Lord Impaler Revealed

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE LORD IMPALER REVEALED

SHADOW OF THE IMPALER-THE LORD IMPALER REVEALED

By Red Star

There was nothing Officer Jenny could do.

"WHAT?" Samuel Oak shouted at the policewoman.

She shrugged, "Well, we could charge him with fraud. Did he try to sell the scrolls to you?"

"Well," Oak looked down, "No. In fact, I was going to ask him to loan it to Dr. Eve's old school to examine when I went home."

"But he didn't make any attempt to take money for it?"

"…No. I suppose not."

Jenny turned to us and put up her hands in a sign of helplessness. Mayo thoughtfully rubbed her Espeon while Billie stood right behind me. I could feel something odd in her psychic radiation, a feeling of helpless sympathy…and something deeper?

"Well, isn't it kind of suspicious that he disappeared right when Misty was attacked?" asked Billie.

"I suppose, but this Graves guy hasn't shown up in our files. He doesn't even have a speeding ticket. He has no motive at all!"

Oak walked up to the glass that showed the resting Misty. He looked frustrated and ran a hand over the whiskers on his face.

A doctor walked up to Officer Jenny and said, "Officer, your sister from Veridian City called; something about a Mr. Graves,"

She trotted off while the doctor approached us and looked inside.

Silence reigned for a while.

"It's quite a puzzle," he mused.

"How much blood did she lose?"

The doctor shrugged, "Enough to keep her alive but also unconscious. But you know what the others are saying?"

We turned to him as he took on a small smile.

"The other doctors are saying we should put garlic around her room, because of the marks on her neck."

More silence.

"You know…Garlic? Necks? Vampires?"

The Professor's eyes narrowed as he opened his mouth to say something…

"WE'VE GOT HIM!!!"

Officer Jenny was shouting as she raced down the hallway. She stopped to catch her breath before going on.

"*huff* My sister found*huff* a*huff* biological laboratory outs-*huff* outside Veridian City that was previously owned by what we suspected was a front for Team Rocket," she seemed to have recovered, "A man matching Mr. Graves' description was seen arriving in a limo at the lab a few days ago."

I lifted an eyebrow, "So? What does that mean?"

She turned to me, "The lab's owned by a subsidiary of the Draculesti Group. Apparently, scientists have been coming in and out of there ever since they bought the place."

"So, Mr. Graves works for Draculesti?"

She nodded, and reached for her radio. "I'll have some guys bring a car around to take us there. Whoever this 'Graves' guy is, he's going to…"

I wasn't listening anymore. I was already in Veridian…

The lab was modern, but it also looked abandoned. The guardhouse was empty, and the parking lot lights cast an eerie glow over the lot and the trees bordering the pavement. I floated over to the front entrance. I would have said door, but that had been blown into the hallway, the floor was covered with shattered glass and the metal remnants of the doors themselves were scattered further into the building. 

I looked around at the destruction, then continued inside.

It looked like a normal business office within, except for the signs warning people away from entering certain areas. I came to a pair of doors that seemed to lead into the main laboratory.

I looked them over, and was considering what to do when I heard a voice in my head. A voice that I hadn't heard for months.

Greetings, Ash Ketchum.

I whipped around and saw him. Mewtwo. He towered over me, with his eyes glowing a bright blue. His purple tail waved angrily through the air as he glared at the door.

Mewtwo! I suppressed an urge to hug him. He gave a small smirk that said that he was, in his own way, glad to see me too.

I'm sorry about the Russian incident, Ash. Someone…something…kept me from helping you.

I closed my eyes, since Mews' mouths are easily hidden under our nose; we tend to show smiles with our eyes.

That's all right. It turned out okay…

I heard a whir as two large panels on either wall opened up and a red light began rising from the floor. I panicked, and began moving away…

Don't worry, said Mewtwo, It's some kind of scanner. It went over me and nothing happened.

The scanner went over me and the two doors slid open.

We looked at each other before going in.

The lab had been stripped down. Computers built into the wall missed key parts. Large glass tubes that were connected to a machine that was missing it's own parts had the stains of dried liquid on the inside.

Mewtwo shook his head disgustedly. Look at this, he snarled, gesturing to the ruined computers, I can't do anything with them, especially not finding out anything about the man who runs this place.

I looked around, floating toward a computer board. I noticed then that there was a small gold ring sitting there, with two thin wires leading into the console. 

What's th…

That was all I could say before I screamed in pain from a bolt of energy that surged into my mind, like someone seizing my brain with a hand made of rusty nails. 

Ash! What's wrong? Mewtwo sounded startled…and frightened.

But I couldn't answer. He was far away…

The little girl with raven-black hair smiled happily at me.

_What the…?_

I looked down and saw I was in my human form.

Below me was the Earth.

I looked up and saw blackness, with small dots of light piercing through.

I'd seen it before; where the sky meets outer space. The girl and I were in the atmosphere.

"Hi! I'm Lydia!"

I gave a nervous smile, looking around, trying to figure out why it felt like I was standing on solid ground in the sky.

"Uh…hi. I'm Ash…what's going on?"

Lydia beamed and trotted toward me, her eyes shimmering, "Papa sent you, didn't he?"

" 'Papa'?"

"Yes, my papa. He's a very important man in the living world."

I looked down at the world, " 'Living'? But then I'm…aww nooo…"

Lydia giggled and shook her head vigorously. 

"No, no, silly, you're not dead! I'm here with you in spirit!"

I peered at her, she continued smiling.

"Why?"

Her smile faded a little, and she looked toward the earth, to the northern part.

"What they say about Papa isn't true, ya know. Everybody says he's a monster, that he killed people who didn't do anything to him. Well, they're wrong!"

She looked at me, tears beginning to emerge from her eyes.

"They wouldn't leave him alone! They always tried to steal our country, they always tried to kill Papa!"

A tear ran down her cheek.

"They took Mama. Papa cried more than me or Vlad. Papa always gave stuff to them and they still hated Papa! Why wouldn't they leave us alone?"

What could I do? She was crying her eyes out in front of me.

Then, it stopped. She came closer and rubbed her nose with her arm, trying to get rid of the tears.

"When I died, Papa was very sad. He was lookin' for me everywhere and couldn't find me," she looked at me, expectantly, waiting for some answer, "But they hid me real good. Please help him; all Papa wants is to say goodbye…"

The scene shifted to a valley. It was filled with grass and trees dotted the landscape. 

Lydia walked over and stood over a pickle-shaped stone that stuck out of the ground.

"Tell Papa I'm here," she said, pointing at the stone, "He'll be so happy to find me."

The world began to blacken, and she seemed more agitated.

"Ash! If you see Papa, tell him I love him so much and Mama misses him too! Thank you, Ash…Ash, Ash, Ash, ASH! ASH! ASH! WAKE UP!"

I felt three fingers that ended in balls backslap me. My eyes opened to the sight of Mewtwo shaking his right, which had reddened a little.

Wh…what happened?

He looked at me.

To be brief, you were unconscious, and I woke you up, he blew on his fingers, Has anyone told you that you have a hardhead?

Why?

He looked at me again, probably considering whether to slap me again. His eyes blinked in surprise as he pulled from the panel. I looked back to see that a red light was glowing on the console. The panel to which the ring was attached to by the wires zipped into the wall, pulling the ring with it.

"Bravo, Mr. Ketchum."

We whirled around to see a pale man wearing dark clothes and a long black cloak.

Graves, I hissed. My eyes narrowed as he continued.

"Forgive me, but I'm afraid that I have been lying to you and your little friends. Jonathan Graves is not my Christian name."

Didn't know, don't care, I said before launching myself at—and through—him into the opposite wall.

"I hope you haven't tried to actually attack me, for this is merely a hologram. At this moment I am quite a distance away."

I turned around and sheepishly took my place beside Mewtwo again.

Nice work.

Shut up.

"My true name, my young friend, is Vlad Dracula, Prince of Wallachia."

We looked at each other, startled.

"Yes, dear Ash, I _am_ real. And this laboratory belongs to me.

"You see, Ash, after I had risen from the grave, I found myself in an unfriendly world without a country, army, or family. My powers were temporarily limited by my ignorance of them. But one thing ran clear through my mind: vengeance. For my house's honor and myself.

"Over the years, I built a power base in Europe, binding the various tribes to my will. It was child's play to expand that into Africa and Asia, and then to the Americas. Finally, we entered into the business world, where our would-be opponents sowed the seeds of their own destruction."

He smiled at us, as if he was really there to see us.

"In the Year of our Lord Nineteen-hundred and Seventy-six, the entire undead world paid tribute to the 500th anniversary of my rebirth. Among the gifts was an ancient tablet from some vampires who found it in Crete. 

"They knew—and I knew—that it was an enchanted stone. Of what magic we could not discern but nevertheless I took their gift and subjected it to several experiments…without success, I'm afraid."

Graves—Dracula—looked a little miffed at saying that, as if he had failed somehow.

"Then, twelve years ago, I went into my vaults to look at my various treasures when, to my astonishment, I found Latin inscribed on the stone, looking as if it had been there all along!"

Dracula smirked and his eyes faintly glowed red.

"I was later to discover that that was the day you were conceived,"

Mewtwo looked down at me as I began sinking downward, red coming to my cheeks.

"A short time later, I awoke one evening to find Baba Yaga sitting in the library, sipping a tea brand that I did not have from a cup that was not mine. She smiled at me with those iron teeth of hers and we talked. 

"We spoke of the tablet.

"We spoke of the babe that was taking form in Delia's belly.

"And, we spoke of her visions of possible futures for you.

"You see, Ashura," Dracula began pacing, his arms apparently behind his back judging from the look of his cape, "Some people think that God guides all people through a predetermined fate; others believe we have free will and do as we please in this life and reap what we sow in the next. However, this is not the case:

"Humanity, dear Ashura, chooses it's own future. The Almighty lovingly designs these futures; no sooner do we turn onto one path then we come to another fork in the road, and then _we must choose._ There is no turning back to choose another path; you must move on and hope there is one that will allow you to fix your errors. 

"So, you had your own futures to choose, and they were important ones because your power is great: either Chaos Lane or Order Street. The former would mean the doom of humanity and Pokemon alike. Your friends would die or become enslaved by your mighty brain."

He looked over at us; I broke into a cold sweat and floated backward. How did this guy know where we would be standing?

"From the story of carnage that even horrified me sprang one most tragic; Misty—yes, dearest Misty—realized that you had forsaken the humanity and compassion within you, and so turned to your doppelganger, Ritchie, for comfort. Their love grew, and she became pregnant with his child. You discovered this with your powers, became enraged with jealousy, and killed Ritchie for the crime of taking away something that you wouldn't have because you never wanted humanity again. Then—in a move that I must admit I found appropriate for the occasion—you killed _her!"_

My eyes grew large, and I dropped down.

N..no!

"It wasn't quick, of course. You made her die in her bed in that ninth month, with her last breath coinciding with her babe's first, she died clutching the sheets that ran red with her blood and her tears when she realized your betrayal. Of course," he mused, putting a sharp-nailed finger to his lips, "She could easily have been weeping over the death of the true Ash, the Ash that destroyed her bike and took her on a magnificent adventure across the continent."

Tears began biting at my eyes.

I…I killed her…

"Of course, upon the finish to her sad tale, my first thought was to destroy you as soon as you emerged from dearest Delia's womb. But Baba Yaga—such a wonderfully strange woman—shook her head, and our partnership began.

"You know the rest."

I was on the ground. The tears were falling freely now.

I…killed her.

Mewtwo was looking back and forth between the hologram and myself, as if trying to make a choice whom to give his attention to. I guess "suffering little friends" won out.

Ash…its all right, she's still alive…

Misty…Misty could have died…she could have been dead by now…

Ash, don't cry. She's not dead, you took a different path and she's alive.

I pulled away from him, floating and glaring at him through tear filled eyes.

DON'T YOU GET IT!! IF IT WASN'T FOR A WITCH AND THAT…VAMPIRE, MISTY COULD BE…

I still couldn't believe it. My paws were shaking as I realized that Dracula was right. Right about everything. Right about me.

I owed him.

The whole world owed him and Baba Yaga it's life and freedom.

And those two would sit in the shadows, quietly watching and laughing at us mortals as we bumbled along in this abused world, never knowing how close we came to Armageddon.

I owed Prince Dracula so much…and I felt dirty just thinking about it.

Dracula seemed to have anticipated my time to let it out, waited, and finally spoke up.

"There are other things I would like to tell you, my young friend, but they must wait for a later time.

"Right now, this building is preparing to self destruct, you have a ten-second head start.

"In the meantime, by now I have arrived in Cerulean City. And I am about to take the lovely Misty Waterflower under my care. Good-bye, for now, Ash Ketchum."

Ten seconds to self destruct…ten…nine…

Ash, we have to get out of here!!

Huh…?

…eight…seven…

He sighed and grabbed me and teleported out of there.

I didn't see the destruction of Dracula's biological laboratory. Mewtwo was leaning over me, in a protective manner. We looked back at the flaming building, and then we looked at each other.

Mewtwo was holding me up in his arms like I was his baby. If he felt ridiculous about it he didn't show it.

Mewtwo…?

Yes?

…Thanks. I…just…

I know, Ash. I'm psychic, remember?

I didn't know if that was humor or not.

I looked up at him into those eyes. The emotion and spark within them looked familiar.

Mewtwo?

Yes, Ash?

…Would you be my brother?

He was silent, and then, he gave a little smile.

Of course.

And he hugged me.

Uh, Mewtwo? Not so tight, please.

**ATTENTION!!!**

**I, Red Star, General Secretary of the People With Lots Of Free Time Party and Supreme Commander of the Extremely Bored Writers Army, present a challenge to all authors on FFN!**

**The title is "Imperium Dracula".**

**The time is the Future.**

**The Master is Vlad Dracula!**

**The plot…yours!!!**

**I challenge my fellow authors to write a fanfic featuring their favorite characters from any TV show, anime, movie, comic book, whatever, in a world ruled by Dracula!**

**Make it short, make it long, I don't care!**

**The first part of the title should be "Imperium Dracula:", then add your own title to it.**

**Please e-mail me if you decide to take the challenge so that I can look for your story.**

**Please write and everyone have a good time!**

** **

** **


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